


Silk or Leather

by vodkaanddebauchery



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Broh Week, Enthusiastic Consent, Light Bondage, M/M, smut with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:04:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vodkaanddebauchery/pseuds/vodkaanddebauchery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iroh is not a control freak, he is a man charmed.<br/>Written for Day 5 of Broh Week (Charming).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silk or Leather

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt gave me the most trouble, and I think it shows. When in doubt, revert to glorious pseudo-smut.  
> Title from Prince Charming by Adam & The Ants, because it proved inspirational.

Iroh is not, contrary to what seems to be popular opinion, a control freak. He just expects things to be a certain way, gives the orders, and people gladly make things happen. He doesn’t need to micromanage, loom over shoulders, or breathe down necks. Things just get done, and it fills him with quiet pride, the level of loyalty and trust his crew places in him.

But then there is the old addage: _If you want something done right, you’ve got to do it yourself._

Whether or not that saying is testimony to wanting a certain level of control between the sheets, as it were, is up for debate. 

Right now, he’s doing everything, stopping and redoing until things are a certain way, until they’re perfect. Bolin is a passive passenger, looking like he’s fit to shake right out of his skin - 

(And if _that_ hadn’t been the most awkward conversation in Iroh’s entire life, nothing was - 

“Are you all right? Should I stop?”  
“Why? I’m doing great. More than great.”  
“You’re shaking. Usually that indicates that you’re....uncomfortable.”  
“Oh. Yeah, I can’t help it, it’s like waiting for a match to start, or something, except _way better_.”) 

\- but the look on his face is rapturous. His eyes have gone soft and quiet, they follow Iroh’s every motion and light up unreasonably brightly when Iroh hitches the leather straps to the headboard and leans to kiss his mouth softly.  
Raw red raised in symmetric lines on his skin are an obvious reminder of the ropes last night, and Iroh barely suppresses a shudder at the memory: How alluring Bolin looked, trussed up and face rapturous, the weight of his cock straining against the knots each time his back arched involuntarily. 

But that’s not for tonight. The cuffs Bolin wears now are soft padded leather, and Iroh knows from experience that no marks will be left no matter how hard he strains against them. 

And he intends to have Bolin straining very, _very_ hard. 

He kisses Bolin again, just because, and pulls away before Bolin can deepen it any further than he wants. The noise of disappointment Bolin makes is endearing, it makes him want to kiss him again, but there’s one last piece to the puzzle that’s missing. 

Deep red and luxuriously soft, the pure silk blindfold hidden away in the top drawer of the bedside table had been an impulse purchase, a few weeks ago. It wasn’t until he had paid for and pocketed it, leaving the small, discreet shop, that Bolin potentially objecting had occurred to Iroh. The teen was, after all, remarkably open-minded, but willingly giving up his vision for an evening implied a level of trust that Iroh wasn’t sure he’d earned yet. 

But judging from his expression now, Bolin knows exactly what the square of silk is for, and is eagerly anticipating exactly what Iroh is going to do with it. He leans further back against the pillows, elbows bent and wrists bound above his head in beautiful angles, and just _smiles_ at Iroh. 

And despite the heady rush of Bolin yielding to him like this, to his silk and leather, what’s most striking is how charm has replaced allure. Bolin is always appealing, always, Iroh will never get sick of him - not just in this context, laid out so prettily over his bed - but something about that smile marks Iroh as a doomed man. He never really stood a chance. 

They’d fallen into bed together, at the beginning, and now he can’t imagine life without the earthbender at his side. Suddenly he’s kind of overwhelmed with how utterly charmed he is by Bolin. 

Iroh ties the knot and takes care to ensure that none of his hair gets caught when he pulls it tight. If his fingers tremble, he’ll just say that they’re even now.


End file.
